I hate Tuesdays. There is no redeeming quality to them. At least on Monday, you are still kind of going on weekend momentum, and have theoretically gotten a couple extra hours of sleep. Plus, you know. The communal Monday bemoaning. All day long, like it or not, you spend time exchanging “It’s Monday” shrugs and weary smiles in the bathroom with people you don’t know. No one expects you to be happy on a Monday. That day lives in infamy.

And every other day has its own special something. Wednesday is Hump Day. And on Thursday, you can be like, “Well, tomorrow’s Friday.” You can even go to the bar on Thursday without feeling like you’re signing your own death warrant. And Fridays obviously rule. Even if you do go out on Thursday, making Friday more difficult to endure, you can get a greasy breakfast, because, hey! It’s Friday! You’ve been good all week; it’s time to treat yourself! And treat your hangover!

All of this may sound like I wish the weeks away, and by extension, my life. I get that. And I’ve tried to snap myself out of it, and be all, “Oh, yay, four whole days left in this beautiful week, la la la!” But I just can’t do it. I’m SORRY.

Maybe I resent Tuesdays so much now not only for the aforementioned reasons, but because there is a gaping hole where “Buffy” used to be. I used to get excited for Tuesdays, because every week at 8:00, I got to sit down with the best show ever. I looked forward to it all week. When the previews for the next episode would come on, I’d think, “How can I ever wait till next Tuesday?”

But now it’s over, so there is no guarantee to take the edge off of my most hated day. So I’m cranky and bitter and sad. And also, I had to go to a meeting today about how AWESOME! my company is doing, although it would be nice to see some of that awesomeness reflected in my paycheck so I didn’t have to go part-time job hunting this (Tuesday) evening.